


(Kiss me once, then kiss me twice), It's Been a Long, Long Time

by shouldbeover



Series: Quiet Nights in Wakanda [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: It's more romantic than porny, M/M, Mutual Pining, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers really really needs a hug from Bucky, Wakanda, melancholia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 05:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14635503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldbeover/pseuds/shouldbeover
Summary: Prelude to "A Single Drop in the River of Time."The first time Steve visits Bucky in Wakanda at the hut.





	(Kiss me once, then kiss me twice), It's Been a Long, Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I thought that was a one-shot. It wasn't. I wanted it to be less...tragic, melancholic, than the first part. It kind of isn't. Sorry.
> 
> What's funny is I thought about using "It's Been a Long, Long Time," as the title of the last piece of the "The Blue Moon" set, but it came out after the boys 'died.' They wouldn't have heard it until the present time. It is, as most know, a song that came out after the end of the war for those who returned. I'm sure Steve heard it after he woke up. It was recorded by Harry James and Bing Crosby, both popular before he went under, and I'm sure he looked up songs released by his favorite artists. Bucky probably did the same when he got his mind back and had access to music (probably not in Romania). Lyrics at the end. How perfect are they?
> 
> And then I discovered that it's included as a bonus track on the Captain America soundtrack, which I didn't know. Thank you Wikipedia.
> 
> Oh, and let's just say that there was a much longer space of time between T'Challa's UN speech and Infinity War.

Steve stopped being Captain America when he dropped the shield. For Bucky. That much he knows.

Or possibly when he almost killed Tony.

Or perhaps when he led a charge against former team/friends at the airport.

Or maybe when he wouldn’t sign the Accords.

But when did he stop being Steve Rogers? When he spray-painted his suit black and became a nomad without a country? Dying his hair in a seedy motel in Barcelona and helping Natasha bleach hers?

Maybe he stopped being Steve Rogers _when_ he became Captain America.

And maybe he stopped being Steve Rogers when he let Bucky go back into cryo without telling him he loved him.

Shuri doesn’t tell him much when he calls. In a way she’s Bucky’s doctor. Steve respects that. She does tell him when Bucky is coming out of cryo, and he so wants to be there, but, but, but…this happens, and this happens, and this battle needs to be fought, and that cell wiped out. So he isn’t.

Then a cryptic phone message from Bucky saying that he’s doing really well, triggers almost gone.

But that he needs a little space to find himself, his true self.

Ok.

Steve thought, hoped, that he was part of Bucky’s true self.

At last he has some time, and he just can’t stand it. He goes to Wakanda after King T’Challa’s speech to the UN. Goes straight to the lab.

“Captain Rogers!” Shuri says.

“What an honor,” she says.

“Now, about your suit, I have some—”

“Where’s Bucky?”

“He’s not here, he’s—"

“He’s not here?! Where did he go?  It’s not safe! He could be--”

Shuri holds up her hands, placating. She’s sixteen and weighs one hundred pounds.  Steve’s thirty-four—or ninety-nine—and two-hundred and thirty pounds. He feels chagrined. “Calm down, he’s here in Wakanda. He just doesn’t live here in the palace.”

“Where. Is. He?”

“He…he lives nearby. I’ll…have a drone take you; it’s getting dark.”

He makes a quick apology for his rudeness, which she brushes off as understandable. He’ll be forever grateful to her for understanding. For everything.

Steve follows the drone through the pristine Wakandan landscape. He didn’t have the chance to enjoy it before, and he doesn’t want to take the time now.

They must have alerted Bucky because he’s waiting outside the hut. He’s illuminated by the last of the sun’s rays and he is the most beautiful thing that Steve’s ever seen. His dark hair, softly waved, and shining, golden-olive skin, soft grey eyes that Steve can just see, bright in the light. He’s dressed in red cloth, clasped at the waist by a belt. A blue swath covers his stump. Steve thought that Shuri would have given him a new one, but maybe Bucky didn’t want it. He looks calm, peaceful even. Steve swerves the bike sideways. He feels like he’s intruding on this delicate space that Bucky has created for himself. That he should go away and keep the darkness out, the dark chaos of himself. Keep Bucky safe and pure. But Bucky smiles and waves. Steve dismounts and walks the rest of the way. He leaves his knapsack with his toiletries on the bike. He’s not sure he’ll be invited to stay.

“Steve.”

“Bucky?”

“I guess you should come in.”

Bucky turns and goes through. He holds back the cloth in the doorframe. They both have to duck.

It’s surprisingly light and airy in the tight space. A spiral staircase leads down into a warm glow.

Steve follows Bucky down.

The room is cozy, but still bigger than some of their apartments. There are two cane chairs in front of a lit fireplace. The walls are covered with Wakandan tapestries in warm, vibrant colors. A large painting of the marketplace with smiling children in colorful clothes hangs above the mantel. Through an archway hung with beads he can see a low bed with a thick mattress. Another alcove shows a very modern looking kitchen, and a dark doorway presumably leads to the bathroom.

“Would you like some tea?” Bucky asks, soft and formal. “I usually have some at dusk. I drink Rooibos, but I have some Darjeeling.”

What Steve would like is alcohol to settle his nerves, but he hasn’t been able to have that since 1943.

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

When did Bucky become a tea drinker?

When did Bucky decide to live in a hut on a farm?

When did he stop knowing Bucky at all?

Bucky disappears into the kitchen.

Steve wanders around the small room. There’s a wall full of ornate and intricate masks. It surprises him. He’d have thought that Bucky would have had enough of masks.

“Do you like them?” Bucky asks from behind him, making Steve jump.

“They’re beautiful. I just…do you like them?”

Bucky joins him at the wall. He reaches out and strokes the horn on one.

“You know, when I moved in, it was furnished, and I thought I wouldn’t. The first few nights they disturbed me. Felt like they were looking at me, featured in my dreams…nightmares. But then I tried them on, one by one, and they…I felt transformed by them. In different ways, some good, some bad. Like, without my face haunting me I could really see myself again. They weren’t…a muzzle, they were a…I guess a form of shield. Now I feel like they guard me. When I was…being helped, at the palace by Shuri, they gave me something. I guess a tiny dose of what they give warriors, or maybe just the Black Panther. I know that Shuri was hesitant, but T’Challa…he said it was what it was for. I had a dream, or a vision, I guess, of walking in this beautiful place, a giant tree, panthers all around. The root of all things. I screamed there and the panthers screamed with me, screamed out the words, and the names, and my hatred and fear. And now, sometimes I dream I’m there in one of the masks—this one most often,” he pointed to a stylized panther. “I’m running with the panthers, but I’m still me. I’m still a killer, I guess I always will be, but I’m balanced in the order of things.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky grins and looks down. He doesn’t look at Steve.

Bucky goes to the kitchen and returns with a tray laden with a large tea press and two mugs, plus a few cookies. He sets it on the table and gestures for Steve to sit.

The rooibos is light and floral, yet earthy at the same time. There’s a hint of cinnamon.

“Why are you here?” “Why did you come?” they ask in unison.

“I came because, because I wanted to see you. See how you were. I’ve missed you so much,” Steve says, more defensively than he meant to. “Why are you here?”

Bucky looks surprised. “It’s my home, Steve. The first one I’ve had since…” he trails off.

“You didn’t have to come. I know you’re busy. You could have called. I would have answered,” Bucky continues.

Steve puts down his mug and leans forward, hangs his hands between his knees. “I had to come, Bucky, you have to know that.”

Bucky plays with a join on the arm of the chair. “Steve, I’m not…your responsibility. You don’t have to babysit me or hold my hand.” He looks up, face slightly overhung by his hair. “You’ve done enough for me, more than enough. I can,” he shakes his head a little, a hint of a smile, “get by on my own.”

“Bucky, I didn’t…I don’t think that. I came because…because _I_ needed to see you. It’s purely selfish. ‘Til the end of the line, Bucky, remember? The point is, you don’t have to, right? I needed to see you. I…I need you.”

Bucky looks at him a long time. “What do you want from me, Steve?”

“I want…I want my friend. Nothing else. Nothing you don’t want to give, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you don’t want to be my friend anymore.” Steve says. Steve wants to say, unless you want something more. Ask and it’s yours, Bucky. Any lifetime. But he doesn’t.

Bucky smiles, but it’s sad, “Of course I want to be your friend, Steve.” Does Steve imagine it, or is there a little more emphasis on friend.

“But you have new friends and I don’t want to pull you away from them.”

“They’re not you. They don’t know me like you do. They never will.”

Bucky goes back to playing with the arm of the chair. “What about Sharon?”

“What about her?”

Oh.

“That kiss, Bucky…Sharon was…there was some history.” Steve scrubs his hand through his hair, getting caught in the tangles. He forgets sometimes that it’s so long. “Everything was so strange that day. Finding you, almost losing you again, the fight.”

Bucky chuckles, “Yeah, it was a pretty busy 24 hours.”

Steve smiles, “Sometimes I do things without thinking.”

Bucky smiles, really smiles, and it lights up the room, “You don’t say.”

Steve takes a deep breath and plunges on, “There are things I kept myself from doing that day. Things I really wish I’d said and done.”

Bucky offers nothing. “Like what?”

Steve moves to the edge of his seat, wishes the coffee table wasn’t between them. “Pulled you into my arms, hugged you like I’d never let go.”

“That would have been awkward, what with the tactical strike and all.”

“Yeah.”

They grin at one another like idiots.

“But later,” Steve continues when he can, “when we were finally alone, on the plane. I should have…have told you. And before…”

Bucky frowns slightly, “Before fighting Stark?”

“No, no, before…before you went back into cryo. But I didn’t want to…if you didn’t remember…force you, or impose, or…reach for something that was lost. I’m sorry. I’m not making a lot of sense.”

Bucky smooths his hair back in a graceful, fluid motion. He’s had more practice. He looks at the fireplace. “It’s not lost. If that’s what you’re askin’.”

The catch of Brooklyn makes Steve suck in his breath.

Bucky still doesn’t look at Steve, keeps his eyes resolutely on the low, dancing flames. “When I was…when Shuri was poking around in my head, she said that sometimes memories, even when someone was as good as she was—yeah, she’s not modest, my girl Shuri—memories get jumbled. Things you wanted to happen, maybe dreams, can seem so vivid and real that…”

Steve breathes out, “If they’re memories of us, then I can tell you, they’re absolutely real.

“Can I…can I please, please Bucky, can I hug you? Just once. And if you want me to go, I’ll go…and—”

Bucky spreads his one arm wide.

Steve practically lunges over the table to kneel in front of Bucky’s chair. He pulls Bucky forward to him, and buries his face in Bucky’s hair. He feels like weeping when Bucky wraps his one arm around him and pulls him tight enough to pop his spine.

“Oh, Buck,” he whispers.

“Are you, are you still my Stevie?” Bucky whispers back.

“Now and forever, Bucky. Now and forever.”

As one they pull back only enough to kiss. As innocent as their first, a half a world away and more than seventy years in the past.

Bucky laughs into Steve’s mouth and it’s the most perfect thing that Steve’s felt in seventy years. “Guess we still haven’t learned to just say what we mean, have we?”

“Too much time holding things in, keeping secrets.”

“Yeah. Too many muzzles.”

“No more, right?”

“No more.”

They go back to kissing, slow and tender, but Steve’s burning under his skin. He ducks his face into Bucky’s neck, “Can I, can I please, can I taste you?” He thinks maybe he said those words before, lots of times.

Bucky pulls back and looks at him, eyes wide. He opens his mouth to speak, but something in Steve’s face makes him shut it again. He leans back in the chair and spreads his legs.

Steve fumbles with the belt and tosses it aside. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that Bucky wears nothing underneath the draped cloth. Bucky’s still mostly soft, but he thickens up quickly on Steve’s tongue. Steve wants to weep, wants to shout to the heavens, wants nothing more than to have Bucky in his mouth forever and ever, until the stars fall down from the heavens. He moans at the old familiar smell, taste, and texture. When Bucky runs his hands through Steve’s hair and down his shoulder he shudders, and hears Bucky exhale heavily above him. Bucky’s hands disappear for a moment and only when the cloth is pulled back does Steve realize that Bucky’s undone the knots that hold the pieces of fabric together and let them fall away onto the chair.

Later that night, after a slow tender lovemaking that leaves them both crying and laughing in relief and joy, Steve watches Bucky as he sleeps. He doesn’t touch him for fear of waking him, only lets his fingers trace a few millimeters over his skin, along where the stump is wrapped in neoprene, over those perfect lips, parted slightly in sleep, the strong jaw, the hard lines of his chest and abs. He doesn’t sleep for a long time.

In the perfect, still silence of the Wakandan night, a goat bleats miserably. Bucky is instantly awake waving up a screen that shows a kid, crying pitifully against the fence. Its mother finds it, licks its head and the night is silent once more. Steve’s crying again and Bucky pulls him close, tucks him under his head like old times, and whispers soothing nonsense and Steve knows who he is.

**Author's Note:**

> It's Been a Long, Long Time
> 
> Never thought that you would be  
> standing here so close to me.  
> There's so much I feel that I should say,  
> but words can wait until some other day.
> 
> Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,  
> Then kiss me once again.  
> It's been a long, long time.  
> Haven't felt like this, my dear,  
> Since can't remember when.  
> It's been a long, long time.
> 
> You'll never know how many dreams  
> I've dreamed about you,  
> Or just how empty they all seemed without you,  
> So kiss me once, then kiss me twice  
> Then kiss me once again,  
> It's been a long, long time.
> 
> The music was written by Jule Styne and the lyrics were written by Sammy Cahn.
> 
> A recording by Harry James with vocal by Kitty Kallen reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart on November 24, 1945. An alternate version by Bing Crosby (recorded July 12, 1945) accompanied by The Les Paul Trio was also working its way up the charts. It replaced the James' version at No. 1 on December 8, 1945.


End file.
